


terrible, aching

by scrying_glass



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Caleb's a little in love with all of them, Exhibitionism, F/M, M/M, Sharing Body Heat, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:15:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27451840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrying_glass/pseuds/scrying_glass
Summary: "It's cold," Caleb says, kicking himself for how pathetic it sounds.
Relationships: Fjord/Caleb Widogast, Jester Lavorre/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 16
Kudos: 217





	terrible, aching

No sooner have the words left his lips than hands find their way onto him, than bodies shift closer in the small alcove. An arm winds around his waist; a leg tucks over his calves. Someone small curls up at the foot of their entangled pile. (Frumpkin? Veth, like she used to do?)

Someone slips down closer - Fjord, he recognizes - and cradles his head forward against him, into the warm hollow of his chest. Hand settling over the side of his face. He can feel his frostbitten ear begin to thaw.

Caleb makes a quiet noise, a small exhale of pleasure as warmth seeps into him. The heat is near burning against the frigid cold. But welcome. So welcome.

“Thank you,” he breathes, jaw easing a bit now that it’s not straining to chatter so terribly.

“You really are freezing, Caleb,” Jester whines. The first to break the silence that settles upon the group after several minutes. He feels her cheek press against the nape of his neck after a moment, her arm shifting to hold him in something like a hug.

“Everyone’s probably freezing to you,” Beau says from somewhere behind. “You’re like a space heater, Jes.” Beau lets out a happy sigh through chattering teeth and Jester giggles, and Caleb wonders how many of them have indeed moved closer. He doesn’t bother to lift his head to look, feeling a little boneless. It is very cold in here still, the air frigid where it touches the parts of him that aren’t surrounded by his friends.

He lets out another exhale. “Thank you for--for snuggling with an icicle,” he murmurs, and feels - selfishly - a small prickle of joy at the quiet laughter it earns him from everyone.

There’s another moment of silence, longer than the last. Caduceus lets out a snore, after a while. Dagen, too.

He thinks that perhaps others have fallen asleep by now, until there’s a soft thud and a whispered “ _Ow,_ ” from Yasha, and a “ _Shit, sorry,_ ” from Beau.

Jester and Fjord are awake, too, and he can tell because they keep moving against him. Fjord’s thumb is still stroking the shell of his ear. Jester’s hand rubs circles against his abdomen.

Now that the edge has been taken off from the bitter cold, he’s very aware of them. Aware of their proximity. Their limbs tangled with his.

Their little group has always been touchy-feely, but it’s a little more than usual. He trusts these people, all of them, more than anyone else in the world, and they are so close, pressed up against him. Caleb’s arm is wrapped over Fjord’s waist, the other trapped between their bodies. Jester’s breath is soft against the back of his neck and her thigh is nudged between his legs, their ankles hooked together.

Jester’s fingers dip lower as she strokes idly, just above his navel. It’s enough to make his breath hitch. An unschooled reaction. Just loud enough that her hand pauses its movements.

(There’s a split second where he winces at the sound. Scolds himself for the twinge of arousal-heat in his belly. His heart - irrationally - sinks at the thought of her pulling away, and he scolds himself for that, too.)

He braces, but the rush of cold air against his back as she recoils from him doesn’t come.

Her idle movements pick back up, but her fingers dip low again, pressing into the dip of his belly button through the fabric of his shirt. And then back up, slipping underneath his shirt. Lifting it. Beau is right; Jester radiates heat, and her fingers rub and warm the skin that she’s just exposed to the cold.

His cock twitches. His stomach clenches a little under her. Another reaction he’s helpless to control.

He winces at himself again. And flushes hot with guilt at the small, knowing _hmm_ she makes against his nape.

Nails, just this side of a little sharp, scratch gently at the skin right below his navel.

Lower, lower, until she’s thumbing at the waist of his trousers. Caleb sucks in air. He is still pressed so closely against Fjord, and _why_ isn’t she pulling away from him or-

“Jester getting handsy, is she?” Fjord murmurs. Caleb starts a bit.

He isn’t sure what he expects to see on Fjord’s face when he glances up, his face burning - shock? reproach? annoyance? - but it definitely isn’t the look of curiosity and interest that he does find there. Or his eyes flicking to follow the movement of Jester’s hand as she, apparently seeing no reason to stop, undoes his button.

His mind feels sluggish. He’s not sure if he’s meant to answer.

“I’m warming Caleb up!” Jester says back for him. It manages to sound so innocent and so filthy at the same time, in a uniquely Jester way.

And she punctuates her sentence by slipping two fingers beneath the waistband of his smalls and pressing down gently on the part of his belly right above his cock. She isn’t being particularly quiet, but Caleb clamps his teeth together in an attempt to keep silent, at least. He allows himself a harsh exhale through his nostrils.

From near their feet, Veth utters quietly, “You should help her with that, Fjord.”

Beau, a little louder, “If you’re gonna fuck, do it quickly and let us sleep.”

Caleb winces again. He feels, and hears, Jester’s laughter.

Neither of them move to pull away.

Fjord lowers his hand to Caleb’s jaw and tilts his face up to kiss him, and Caleb lets him. Everyone can definitely hear them, but Fjord’s lips are slightly chapped, and he’s gentle.

And then Fjord’s grip on Caleb’s jaw shifts and he’s grabbing hold of his chin and licking into Caleb’s mouth experimentally. Less gentle. There’s a very faint taste of sea salt on Fjord’s tongue. Tusks dig slightly into Caleb’s lower lip.

Fjord growls, low and quiet in his chest, and the whimper at the back of Caleb’s throat is truly embarrassing. He can feel his shame crumble.

He only barely registers the breathy little noise that Jester makes from behind him, when they pull apart for air.

“She’s right,” Jester says. “You should definitely help me make Caleb warm.” Veth laughs.

Fjord gives only a hum of affirmation before he’s tipping Caleb’s chin up and kissing him again. Licking into him again like he can’t get enough of Caleb’s taste. Jester doesn’t wait for them to pull apart before she’s tugging Caleb out of his smalls and reaching a little further to unlace Fjord’s breeches.

He can feel the hard press of Fjord’s cock against his own, and Jester’s hand trying to fit around both of them. They find a rhythm quickly, rocking into her grip and against each other. Clinging to each other for leverage. It is haphazard. And messy. And quick.

This will be awkward in the morning - or maybe much later, after they've made it out of Eiselcross alive - but right now, the sound of them fucking her hand, alongside Beau and Yasha’s quiet conversation and Caduceus’ snores and the feeling of Veth’s eyes watching them, slices through him like a hot knife in his gut. A terrible, aching kind of pleasure. He wants so badly whatever they will give him. They let him get away with being so selfish.

Fjord brushes strands of hair out of Caleb’s face. Jester kisses the nape of his neck. Veth keeps her distance, but her hand finds his calf and squeezes.

He grunts harshly and spills himself between his friends. Between his and Fjord’s bodies and over Jester’s hand.

Fjord follows shortly after, hissing between his teeth. And as they’re panting against each other, Jester wiggles her hand down to herself. He can feel her hips moving behind him. It’s a short moment before she’s muffling a low noise into his shoulder.

It’s a few minutes before they recover. Fjord cleans them up with a dirty shirt from his pack. Jester snakes an arm around him. “Better, Caleb?” she asks, hugging him from behind.

He blanks. And then remembers that there was a story behind this. “ _Ja_. Y-yes,” he says. “I am--very warm now. Thank you.”

“Good,” Jester sighs. “Tell us again if you get cold, okay?”

Caleb doesn’t respond, feeling a little ashamed and a little useless.

He doesn’t know if his face betrays more than he thinks, or if Fjord just knows him well enough by now, but he grabs Caleb by the chin like earlier. Their eyes lock. Caleb feels... seen, under Fjord’s gaze. His breath catches.

“She means that, you know,” Fjord says. “Tell us. We take care of each other, right?”

Caleb nods. “Right," he answers, his voice nearly a whisper. Unsure if they're still talking about the cold. Fjord hums and releases him.

Beau pipes up again. “I’m cold, too, Jes,” she tries. Jester giggles, and presses her face against Caleb. Fjord’s thumb returns to stroking his ear, and Veth curls up again at his feet, her hand still on his leg.

He falls asleep like that. Between his friends, feeling a terrible, aching kind of love.


End file.
